Daylight Mugging

Relax, it didn't happen to me. But it certainly had an impact nonetheless.

I was standing at the bus stop yesterday afternoon, across the road from where we live. I was waiting for a bus, on my way to school. I stood there, quietly observing the women complaining about the delayed buses, gesticulating and posturing as if to say 'It's Naples, what more could you expect?'

Beside me stood an elderly gentleman, and after some minutes I decided that he was probably a tourist. He was taller than me, thin greying hair, and rather pale. He was dressed in cream corduroy trousers and a cream long sleeved shirt, with a tan leather bag slung across his chest. He kept checking the bus stop sign and didn't speak to anyone. He would have been in his late 70's.

Suddenly the crowd around us started screaming and flapping around like a flock of pigeons startled by a toddler. Unfortunately it wasn't a toddler. A young man in a pale blue sports jacket had run up and grabbed the elderly gentleman by the arm. He was attempting to unfasten his watch and slip it off his hand. The man turned to face his assaliant and started struggling. At the same time I was afraid that another guy might come from the other direction to grab his bag, so instinctively I grabbed the gentleman from behind to hold his bag. Of course then he started to panic that he was also being attacked from behind.

Unable to simple remove the watch, the mugger resorted to ripping it from his wrist, the metallic band breaking in the process. Then he was off. It happened very quickly, yet I felt like I was watching a movie in slow motion. After the mugger took off, the gentleman turned to face me, shaking me off, distancing himself, looking around wildly. Quickly I began to apologise, realising my reactions had caused him further distress. His wrist was cut and bleedly heavily, and suddenly we were surrounded by 'concerned citizens' who had just moments before stood there watching, failing to stop or restrain the mugger in action. People started lamenting about the city and it's petty criminals, how it was such a pity. 'Would you like a tissue?'. 'What did he take?' 'Oh, a watch, of course, a watch. Was it a good one?'

Yes it was a good watch.

After a brief pause, having answered a few of the questions in Italian, I turned to the man and asked if he spoke English. He was clearly not understanding the conversation circling around us. He did speak English. He was Spanish. He was taking anti coagulation medication which explained why his wrist contintued to bleed profusely. I apologised again for grabbiing his bag, explaining my actions had been instinctive and protective having myself been the victim of a bag snatch.

Slowly we began to talk. He was clearly shaken up. His hotel was at Piazza Garibaldi, and he managed a laugh when I commented that that was the dodgiest part of Naples. Ironically he'd had his wallet stolen the day before. And having spent two hours at the police station he'd missed out on his scheduled visit to the National Archeaological Museum. So, while his wife and their travelling companions went up to the Royal Palace he'd been to the museum...only to get mugged on the way back to the hotel and have his watch stolen.

I was taking the same bus, going to Piazza Garibaldi, so boarding the bus we continued talking, about my work, the local people, their plans to visit Sorrento next. He thought I was American, and after telling him I was Australian he admitted he had difficulty hearing the difference between the two accents. I explained that many Neapolitans assumed I was Eastern European, but I thought that was largely because of my hair colour. He denied that I looked at all Slav, claiming they had small heads in comparison to their bodies, and that I was certainly more beautiful than the Neapolitan women.

As the bus travelled towards the piazza, through the traffic, he started to relax and breath normally. His wrist had stopped bleeding and while he was still upset he explained that he mostly objected to violence of the attack. He could see the beauty of the city with its art, architecture, history and cuisine but admitted that he would be warning his friends not to visit Naples. Understandably, he was mostly concerned that he could have been pulled down, falling onto the ground, and could easily have sustained a broken bone. I agreed that the muggers seem to target older tourists, those that are less likely to give chase or put up a fight.

Upon hearing the story, Gi himself voiced his wish that he had been there as he certainly would have reacted better than those standing around us...the scared pigeons. Gi himself encountered a victim of watch mugging some weeks ago. They brazenly conduct these attacks in broad daylight, in busy streets. The middle aged female foreigner didn't initially realise he'd stolen her watch, it happened so quickly.

As we disembarked, the gentleman thanked me for my help and soothing conversation, then headed towards his hotel. I headed across the piazza, dodging cars, buses and undesirables making me way to my connecting bus to work. It was only then that I started to feel a bit shaky, realising that the mugging had happened right beside me, in my neighbourhood, in broad daylight. The strangest thing though was that none of the people waiting with us a the bus stop had done anything to stop it.

However, like much of the petty crime that takes place in Naples it's like water off a duck's back. These people come to expect this sort of behaviour from a small minority amongst them. Yet, somehow, I feel that it is there inaction, and unspoken acceptance that allows this network of criminal activity to continue unabated. Until the neighbourhood stands up, and people start to take action instead of just vocally lamenting about the inevitability of it, nothing will change. This is the essence of Naples' underbelly of sadness and apathy.